


Edge of the City

by mab_di



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bossy Louis, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, One Shot, RPF, Rating: NC17, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mab_di/pseuds/mab_di
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry knew this day was going to be hard. To have a whole day in New York City with the memory of that last visit so fresh, and to spend it apart; he knew it would be difficult. He wasn’t quite prepared for this, though. He wasn’t prepared to feel like something’s been ripped from his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edge of the City

**Title:** Edge of the City  
**Pairing:** Harry/Louis (One Direction RPF)  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word count:** 4.7K ish  
**Warnings:** unsafe sex, a bit of edging (does that need a warning? ‘cause….), teeny, tiny roughness, minor angst, and growing pains  
**Summary:** Harry knew this day was going to be hard. To have a whole day in New York City with the memory of that last visit so fresh, and to spend it apart; he knew it would be difficult. He wasn’t quite prepared for this, though. He wasn’t prepared to feel like something’s been ripped from his chest.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. Utter fantasy. Absolutely no offense to real people is intended and…you know, it’s just another I WISH moment. Also, my gods, what has become of me?

 

A/N  Enormous thanks to [](http://fr333bird.livejournal.com/profile)[**fr333bird**](http://fr333bird.livejournal.com/) and [](http://arcadianmaggie.livejournal.com/profile)[**arcadianmaggie**](http://arcadianmaggie.livejournal.com/) for the pre-read/beta.  You are both amazing.  And I'm so glad to have your company in this unholy obsession. 

********************************************************

It’s only months ago that Harry was a boy and most of the time he doesn’t feel nearly old enough to be living this life, nor to have stretched into this man’s body. He feels like he skipped over something crucial. Except now, with the city breathing through him, he could be as old as he looks. He could be ancient, in fact. He’d been surprised by how quickly he took to London, to city life. He misses the quiet beauty of Holmes Chapel, but he thrives on the energy of London and it became another home almost overnight. New York is the same, and different. Foreign. But he takes to it just like he took to London. It fits him.

It did, anyway. That day he and Louis spent here not so long ago – that day was perfect. The city was theirs, huge and imposing. He felt like Louis could drop the city to its knees just for him. Louis had told him he loved him that night in their hotel, for the first time. Of course he’d said the words many times. Harry demanded them from the beginning. But it was different that night. “I’m in love with you, Haz.” Harry knew it, and grinned into the space on Louis’ neck behind his ear. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

Harry knew this day was going to be hard. To have a whole day in New York City with the memory of that last visit so fresh, and to spend it apart; he knew it would be difficult. He wasn’t quite prepared for this, though. He wasn’t prepared to feel like something’s been ripped from his chest. It’s melodramatic, he knows. It’s one day. Last night he took Louis around the neck and stroked his face with his thumb and said _you’re mine_ as many ways as he could, and tomorrow Louis _would_ be his again. It’s just a day. But today the city’s millions are breathing through him and he feels lonely maybe for the first time in his life.

His sadness is crowding into his throat and tears threaten to spill as he makes his way through the barricaded fans outside the Armani store. The sun is warm on his back and New York is singing a gorgeous, clamorous hymn to life all around him – he’s in love with this place and this moment. And he _misses_ Louis so much he’s choking on it.

He fights it, because he can’t be a child anymore. This is what it is to be a man. It’s walking the streets of the most alive place on earth and walking them alone. He’s so much luckier than most, and he knows it. He’s being ridiculous. He knows that, too. But it still feels huge, what he’s doing today. Forcing himself through the minutes, forcing himself to put the pavement under his feet, to move through traffic and to see all those faces, to _be here_ as an adult who would survive if he were all he had. He would survive if he didn’t have someone who knows who he really is and to love him for it. Maybe, he thinks, with his cheek pressed against the glass as his taxi idles at Union Square. Or maybe not.

The urge to text Louis with every thought and pang of resentment is strong, but he’s fought that too. Now he’s arriving back to his hotel and he can’t help but stare at the list of incoming messages on his phone. It’s not like he expected to hear from Louis today, so he can’t explain why the silence is clawing at him like panic. He knows better. He should. There’s a wild irrationality turning somersaults in his brain the longer he’s away from Louis, the lonelier he feels. He knows as he follows his bodyguard through the revolving doors of the hotel that he’s close to the child just under his skin, very close to a tantrum. He holds it together through the lobby and up the elevator, keeps his calm down the hall, and manages to leave the bodyguard outside his door with some measure of civility intact. Once he’s alone on the other side of the door, he bites at his thumb and makes his way to his bed. His eyes are already bleary. The tears are right there, so close to the surface that his face is wet before he’s completed a thought. He doesn’t need to ask why he’s crying – it’s not a reasoned response. It’s the reflex to physical pain, truer than any argument about why the tears are unnecessary.

Fifteen minutes later he’s curled up on his bed, crying angrily, and losing the fight with himself. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and texts a quick,

_where are you?_

He starts to lose his breath in the minutes he waits for a response, anxiety standing like a sentinel between him and his senses. His tears have dried up in anticipation and his heart is banging at his chest when the reply finally comes.

_On our way back to the hotel. You ok?_

_Not really. Can I see you?_

Thought has ceased. It’s replaced with _needs_ and _must_ and he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds.

_I’ll try. Should I come to your room?_

_please_

Thirty-eight minutes later Harry hears Louis talking to the bodyguard at the door and Harry’s flung it open before he can think about how crazy he’s acting. He suppresses a growl but only nods acknowledgement to his security before he takes Louis by the wrist and pulls him into the room. Harry slams Louis into the wall by the door almost as hard as the door thuds shut behind them. He’s usually careful with Louis – not ginger, but he’s aware of how much bigger he is now. Louis likes it a little rough but Harry’s never wanted to hurt him before. He doesn’t want to hurt him now, not really. But the part of him that’s in physical pain wants Louis to see, to feel it a little. So he pins Louis’ shoulders against the wall and bites at the skin over his collarbone hard enough to mark, hard enough to sting.

Louis flinches but doesn’t protest, just tightens a fist into Harry’s curls and tugs in modest defence while he bares his neck for Harry. Harry sucks and licks at the spot where he’s bitten, tasting the skin that should by all rights be knitted into his. It _is his_. He uses the strength of his arms to press Louis into the wall, shoves into him with the length of his body, grinds his knee into Louis’ groin while he hunches over him with his full weight. All he knows is _wantwantwant_ after a day cut adrift from this thing that owns him, this connection to Louis that’s the only thing grounding him to the boy he was when they first met.

He’s hardly aware that he’s crying again, into Louis’ neck now, when he hears Louis’ whisper at this ear, “Harry, Haz, love, it’s okay…”

For some reason Louis’ comforting tone is nothing like the tonic it usually is. It burns a little and he’s still crying when he grips Louis’ jaw and shoves his tongue into Louis’ mouth. It’s not especially subtle or even sexy as kisses go. It’s a little brutal and desperate and selfish, and he can’t taste enough of Louis’ mouth, searching out the familiar and prepared to conquer anything foreign. It’s _his mouth_ and he bites and licks and then finally moulds his lips to Louis’ to seal them together, slumping into Louis who has him in an embrace now.

He’s panting and already hard when Louis shoves back at him enough to get an inch between them. “Harry, calm down, okay?” Louis grips the back of Harry’s head to force him to meet his eyes.

“I can’t, Lou. You don’t know…I need…” Louis’s shaking his head while Harry talks.

“I do. I do know. And I know what you need.” Harry tries to look away but Louis tugs his head to keep his eyes fixed.

“Now, I need it now.”

Louis’ free hand slides down Harry’s arm and takes his hand. He squeezes softly, nothing like what Harry is looking for but warm and calming nonetheless. “You need to have some patience.”

“I don’t…”

“You will. I’m going to teach you.” The last thing Harry wants to hear about right now is patience but he knows when Louis is serious, and he knows whatever he thought he could force in this moment is lost. Louis is in charge now. He surrenders immediately, grateful and a little scared.

“Do you have to go?” Harry can hardly get the words out.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. And I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

Harry nods. Louis takes his hand more firmly, pushes himself off the wall and leads Harry to the bedroom. Harry follows, still short of breath and feeling something inside him reaching out for Louis in this chaotic, needy way he can’t get control of. It’s physical desire, but more. It’s something that’s always there with Louis but today, for the first time, he’s had a glimpse of what it would feel like to actually be cut loose from it. The need he has to stitch himself into Louis is unlike anything he’s felt before. The child that Louis held in his thrall up until months ago is battling with the man he’s becoming, a man who is strong enough to bend things to his will. Both of them want Louis, need him. But neither knows how to hold onto him, the child wanting a firm hand, the man simply wanting.

Louis sits Harry at the foot of the bed and walks over to the nightstand, where a small lamp casts low light into the room. “Take your clothes off,” he says as he digs for what he needs in the drawer. Harry is whipping his t-shirt off quickly when Louis appears again, placing a warning hand on Harry’s bare shoulder before he’s even got the shirt over his head. “Slowly, Haz. Slowly. I wanna watch.”

Harry flushes under Louis’ gaze but slows his motion, getting the t-shirt over his head and shaking his hair out before looking up to meet Louis’ eyes. Louis’ expression is serious, betrays nothing. Harry looks down to the bulge in Louis’ jeans and is reassured there’s at least one thing he understands. Louis gives him a stern look when he smirks and he’s the chastised child again. He forces himself to straighten his expression and then stands to unbutton his jeans.

Harry can’t help but feel his confidence rise as he pulls himself to his full height, Louis looking up to Harry now. He towers over Louis, and Louis looks at him differently. He’s always been able to see into Harry, to hold him with his eyes. But there’s new wonder there, pride maybe. Harry’s never been shy about his body. Now there’s something else though. Before he was merely comfortable. Now he wears his strength and size like something he’s put on, swishes in it awkwardly, aware of its newness and testing what it does to Louis.

His hands are still jittery and his fingers fumble at his fly until Louis reaches a hand out to cover his, helps him lower the zip and then runs his palm along Harry’s length through the denim - firm enough to feel but not enough to help. Harry’s buzzing with arousal and starts to shimmy his jeans and pants off quickly when Louis catches his hands again, stops him, then very slowly tugs at the denim. He bends down to free the jeans from Harry’s legs and Harry steadies himself on Louis’ shoulder. “Good boy, Haz.”

Louis pushes Harry back down to the bed gently and motions for Harry’s feet, removing one sock and then the other. Harry’s cock is angry red and hot like he feels in his chest now and at the back of his neck. He needs to be touched and reaches out for Louis as soon as he’s naked, but Louis steps back. “Uh uh, Haz. Patience.”

Harry lets out a tiny whine and catches himself, knowing Louis will punish him the more childishly he behaves. He forces his hands to his sides, palms on the bed, and leans back a little, hoping that if he puts his cock on display Louis will take pity on it. Instead Louis stands quietly and watches him for a moment, and then backs up a couple paces.

“First lesson, Harry.” Harry tries not to pout and resists the urge to grab his own cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“Need,” says Harry, quickly. “Need.”

“What do you need?”

“I need you.”

“You need me to stay?”

Harry is terrified to ask, but he does need this – so badly. He bites his lip and chews mindlessly for a second before he answers. “Yeah. Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I need you to stay.”

Louis nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket, not breaking eye contact with Harry. He unlocks the phone and then glances down while he pecks out a quick message.

“What are you writing?”

“ _Harry needs me._ ”

“That’s all?”

“That’s enough.” Louis turns off the phone, slings it onto the chair in the corner of the room. He comes back to Harry, still leaving nearly an arm’s length between them. His expression is unreadable and Harry is aching for touch, something to relieve the pressure and to connect him to Louis again. Instead Louis gives him his eyes, looks at him and challenges him to let Louis see what’s going on in his head. He’s ashamed of what Louis will find there – still feeling the edge of his loneliness, still needing more than he has. But he meets Louis’ eyes because this is something he knows how to do. And it’s pointless to hide from Louis; Louis will see anyway.

What Harry finds in Louis’ gaze hits him hard. It isn’t pity or disappointment. It’s a mirror of his own need, maybe the same edge of desperation. Louis’ eyes are sad. “You too?”

“Of course, Haz,” Louis’ voice is rough. “What did you think? Just because I’m not with you that I’m not thinking about you? Did you think I could forget? “

“Dunno,” Harry drops his eyes because he’s afraid he’s going to cry again. Louis strokes at his chin and nudges his eyes back.

“Never, Harry. I’m always with you.” Harry nods into Louis’ hand and knows his emotions are playing havoc with his face. He can never hold onto that hot-and-serious look that Louis manages so well. “Good lad.”

Harry reaches out to pull Louis in from the waist but Louis scoots out of his reach, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Uh uh. What’d I say? Patience. Lesson number two.” Harry groans and Louis crosses his arms.

“Okay, okay. Teach me.”

“Up on the bed. All the way to the headboard.” Harry follows his instructions and wiggles back on the bed until he’s sitting against the headboard. The need to touch Louis is overwhelming and knowing that Louis felt something like he did today only increases the need. It loosens the tightness in his chest so that everything is at the edge of his skin and threatening to wash him away if Louis doesn’t help him soon.

Louis comes around to the side of the bed where he’s placed lube on the nightstand and sits at the edge, close but not touching Harry. “I want you to wrap your hand around your dick but don’t move it.” Harry’s instinct is to protest but he knows he’ll get what he wants sooner if he follows orders so he complies, his palm sweaty. His cock aches at the touch and the need to stroke it is so strong he groans with it, biting his tongue.

“Louis _god…_ ”

“Oh, Harry,” Louis says in mock sympathy, “you’ve got a long way to go, baby. Hang in there.” Harry’s eyes close because he’s going to explode if he has to look at Louis, and then Louis’ finger is trailing across his collarbone, down to one of his nipples, and circling there lightly. Harry’s nipples are incredibly sensitive - all of them, though the extras more ticklish than anything else. This is agony, not hard enough or wet enough, but the sensation still goes straight to his cock and he involuntarily gives himself a long stroke.

As soon as he does he gets a quick slap at his cheek. It’s light but enough to shock for a second, to further heighten his senses. “Bad boy, Harry. No, no. You’re going to have to remove that hand now.”

“No, please, Lou. I won’t again. I promise.”

“But you will, Harry. You have to learn.” Harry’s thighs are sweating and it’s taking every bit of willpower he has not to roll over and grind into the mattress, or grind into Louis, but he removes his hand as instructed. His hips jump involuntarily, the need for release getting stronger with every second.

“Lie down, Haz.” Harry shifts so he’s flat on his back and Louis moves between his legs, still fully clothed. He goes back to circling first one, and then the other of Harry’s nipples with his fingers, lazily stroking them until they’re pebbled and tender. Louis licks at one of them, again, lightly; none of his touches hard enough to satisfy, just teasing the desire to the surface and letting it simmer there. Harry’s hips start coming up again and Louis pins them with his hands, careful not to give any contact to his cock. He kisses across Harry’s ribs, paying attention to Harry’s extra nipples, down his abdomen, and then nuzzles his nose just below Harry’s navel, nipping at the skin there, while Harry’s erection lies just to the side.

Harry tries to relax into the touch, to enjoy the life in his nerve endings, the way his skin leaps at every contact. It feels incredible, but having Louis so close when he’s been carrying around this heavy want all day makes it all the harder to do what Louis’ asking him. To hold back.

“You’ve got to trust me,” Louis says into Harry’s stomach, reading Harry’s mind. “I’m right here. Sometimes it’s gotta come slow, or we have to wait, but you have to trust me.”

Harry nods at the ceiling and goes as still as he can, concentrating on the breath that’s moving down his cock, not touching, moving lower between his legs, until Louis is spreading his thighs. He lifts Harry’s knee over his shoulder, plants a wet kiss close to his arse. Harry’s cock is leaking onto his stomach now and he can’t stop the whining that’s working its way out of his chest.

Louis licks his balls, takes one into his mouth gently and finally _finally_ wraps his hand around Harry’s cock. Harry mewls and feels the blood rushing so fast he gets lightheaded. He could come with just a few strokes, but Louis knows this. Louis gives him one firm stroke and then wraps his hand tight around the base.

“ _Unggg, Lou, please!_ ” Louis doesn’t answer but his tongue flattens against Harry’s hole and all Harry can feel is hot, wet. His lower body moves without his permission, his hips up and then down hard, trying to get some friction on his cock and Louis’ tongue into his arse. Louis licks and works his tongue inside finally, eats at him until Harry is moaning and writhing into Louis’ mouth. His cock is throbbing in Louis’ hand and the pleasure running around in his gut is making its way into his limbs and through his chest.

He almost feels like he could come like this, even with Louis choking his cock, and his moans must give him away because just when he feels the pleasure gathering into something organised, Louis pulls away and digs his fingers into Harry’s hip bone to still him.

“ _Louis, god, I need you…_ ”

“I know, sweetheart. Hold on for me. Hold on.”

Harry looks down at Louis and tries to focus on his face, to move his mind from the physical need to the relief of having Louis with him. Louis nods at him, his eyes dark. Holding the base of Harry’s cock, he licks up the underside, his tongue skilled, just the right pressure along the vein, circling the head, licking the slit. Harry’s desire chases Louis’ tongue and is left hanging there when Louis removes his mouth and reaches over to grab the lube. He’s still got a firm hold on Harry’s cock and Harry’s pretty sure if Louis moved his hand at all he’d come in a instant.

Louis gives the lube to Harry to uncap and holds out his fingers. Harry’s breathing hard again and instead of hitching his hips up, he’s pressing his arse into the bed, almost needing to get away from the touch. Louis winks at him wickedly as Harry slicks his hand, and lifts his chin to tell Harry to give him access. Harry takes a deep breath and lets go a little, opens up for Louis just as Louis gets a finger inside him. He’s already relaxed from Louis’ tongue and Louis slips in easily, stroking Harry inside first with one finger, then another, and a third.

Harry starts to float and is almost calming into the pressure inside him when Louis massages that spot that whites everything out for a moment. “ _LouLouLouLou,_ ” Harry’s begging and Louis just keeps on, holding his cock tight and stroking him from the inside out. Harry’s pleasure is rising, rising, reaching and again he feels his balls tightening. And then Louis’ fingers are gone and his hand leaves Harry’s cock and Harry reflexively curls up on himself turning on his side before Louis can stop him, his hand shooting down to his aching cock. He hears a high whine and realises it’s coming from his own throat. But before he can get enough friction, Louis’s grabbed his hand away and pinned him back to the bed.

“There, there now, love,” Louis says softly, using his elbow to pin Harry’s shoulder while he strokes Harry’s forehead and threads his fingers into Harry’s fringe. “Nearly there, baby. Relax.” Harry watches Louis, grounds himself to Louis’ voice and his mouth.

“Kiss me, please.” Louis looks at Harry’s open mouth before he leans in and nips at Harry’s bottom lip, presses his lips to Harry’s and licks softly at the inside of Harry’s mouth. “ _Mmmm._ ” Harry wills himself to push the need for release down for a moment, to melt into Louis’ mouth and savour the heat of Louis’ body on his chest. But again it’s too brief and Louis is moving off of him.

Harry leans up after him and Louis has him by the shoulders, sucks his earlobe into his mouth before whispering, “You gorgeous boy. I’m going to fuck you now.” Harry shudders and Louis lays him back down on the bed. “No touching. Wait for me.”

Harry’s eyes follow Louis’ every movement, mooring Harry to the familiar way Louis removes his clothes, the hint of a smile he gives Harry when he finally has his kit off and is back between Harry’s legs. Harry’s stomach is wet and his cock looks impossibly darker, rigid. But Louis ignores it. Goes back to Harry’s wet hole, gets a couple of fingers in quickly. He nods to Harry and Harry follows the silent instruction, groping for the lube at his side and wrapping a slicked up hand around Louis’ cock. Louis closes his eyes as Harry strokes him. He looks halfway to wrecked himself, far more composed than Harry but clearly affected.

“That’s it, Haz,” Louis encourages as he fingers Harry. “Are you ready?” Harry nods and bites his lip again, not sure what to do with his hands when Louis removes them from his cock. “Behind your head.” Louis always knows what he needs.

Harry clasps his hands behind his head as Louis nudges his thighs up and guides the head of his cock in. Louis’ movement is slow and deliberate for a second but before Harry can get a sound out Louis slams into him, holding Harry’s knees for support. Harry’s breath is knocked out in a gush. The pressure is in his gut and he can feel it up in his throat, his arousal spiking again. Louis is moving now, hammering into him and then finding the angle that forces a desperate moan from Harry, lightning flashing through Harry’s body. Harry’s hands move now, grasping at the sheets to steady himself while Louis pounds into him, hitting him in just the right spot.

“ _Lou, Louis, please…_ ”

“No touching, baby. Not yet.”

Harry again thinks he might come without touch and his cock is twitching, the pleasure that’s been rising and falling since he first kissed Louis by the door rising again. But just as he feels like it’s going to burst from him, Louis slows, seats himself deep inside Harry and folds Harry in half, panting over him. He looks hungry as he stills, and almost as desperate as Harry feels now. He slides halfway out and leans over Harry to get to his mouth, kisses Harry sloppily and buries his nose into Harry’s neck for a moment. “I love you, Haz.” Harry digs a hand into the back of Louis’ head and hums, his body on fire with this, with everything that’s been withheld today, having Louis so close and yet not able to get to him. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?” There’s apology laced into the question and Harry is overcome.

“Of course, of course. I’ll always wait for you, Lou.” It hits him then that Louis’s as scared as he is. Needs this as much as he does. He knows it but it’s palpable in this moment. He wraps his arms around Louis and hitches his hips, his cock seeking some friction against Louis’ stomach without thought behind it.

Louis chuckles and slides low, out of Harry’s arms, pushes in deeper. He puts his hands on Harry’s chest and locks his arms as he rocks back into him, picking the pace up again. Harry feels something spinning through his body, like fingers tapping through his veins and prickling the hair as they go. He’s shivering now and just when he thinks he’s going to break apart, Louis reaches a hand down and grabs his cock, strokes him once, twice, then fast and in a moment Harry shatters, the orgasm ripped from him. He’s coming hot all over his stomach and Louis’ hand and he hears Louis moan as he buries his own release deep into Harry.

The only thing Harry knows for an immeasurable moment is the weight of Louis on him and the way his skin and cock are both still twitching from pleasure. As he comes down, he’s aware of Louis pulling out of him, stretching along his side. He’s nearly unconscious from relief and the exhaustion of holding what he’s been holding all day. Finally letting go of it all, embracing Louis as tightly as he can in this boneless state, is bliss. He’s got tears in his eyes again, but it’s just the last of the sadness wrung from him, chased away by everything that Louis means to him. Chased away by the visceral reminder that he’s not alone.

Louis pinches his side. “Are you asleep on me already?”

Harry goes to speak and finds his voice is almost gone. He might have been closer than he realised. “Nah, just…happy.”

“I’m sorry. About today. It’s not what I wanted.” Louis plants a kiss on Harry’s shoulder and lays his head there.

“I know, Lou. It’s not your fault. It’s just hard.”

“It can’t always be just about us.”

“I know.” Harry’s silent and wonders if he’s ever going to grow up. Wonders if he’ll grow out of the way that he needs Louis.

Louis nudges at him and rolls himself off the bed to get a flannel. When he comes back to wash them up, he pays all the attention to Harry’s cock that he denied it earlier, soft as it is now. “You’re a giant, Haz.” Harry laughs and looks down at himself. “Not that, you arse. Just. All of you. You’ve grown so much.”

And maybe he has in other ways, too.

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  



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